


A Lesson in Self-Control

by nietzscheantrout



Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Antony Dimmond deserved better, Asshole Hannibal Lecter, Asshole Will Graham, Begging, Bottom Will Graham, Choking, Desk Sex, Edgeplay, Edging, I just love writing toxic motherfuckers, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Office Sex, Possessive Hannibal, Potential property damage, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nietzscheantrout/pseuds/nietzscheantrout
Summary: Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hannibal had no trouble using him to relieve his frustrations just last week, and suddenly he was concerned about their patient/therapist relationship? He needed to teach him a lesson.And Hannibal, in turn, needed to teach Will self-control.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 135
Collections: hannigram





	A Lesson in Self-Control

“You’ve got to understand, Will. This would be a breach of our professional relationship and could potentially get my license revoked,” Hannibal spoke coolly, watching Will rise from his chair and take a seat on the handrest of Lecter’s armchair, leaning against him ever-so-slightly. “You tell me this _after_ what happened last week?” Will remembered the feeling of Lecter’s lips on his, extracting noises from his mouth that he’d never heard before. It was greedy and selfish, and WIll indulged in every single moment of it, bent over his desk like some sort of amateur pornstar.    
  
Yet now he was sitting here, having a ‘what are we?’ conversation with his therapist, of all people. Perhaps this wasn’t what Jack meant when he said Will should talk to someone.   
  
“Alright, then. What do you suggest? Will I continue seeing you?” He noticed Hannibal’s gaze linger on his lips, scoffing and standing up to return to his seat. Hypocrite. One moment he’s happy to use Will as a means to relieve his frustrations, but suddenly there was an ethics breach? Please.    
  
“Yes. I imagine there’s no need to sever what we have professionally, providing we can remain on these terms for the foreseeable future,” Hannibal could sense Will’s frustration and it was delicious. To be perfectly honest, he had no moral qualms about his relationship with Will. Nor did he think they would ever get caught. He simply wanted to see how Will would respond to rejection. And perhaps, how Hannibal himself would respond. After all, he was developing an inconvenient compassion for the young man. One beyond the natural niceness a therapist would extend to a patient.   
  
Will felt a mocking tone building up in his throat, trying to wave it off as he responded. “Very well, Dr. Lecter. Please proceed with your therapy. I’d love to see you take on a more… hands-off approach.” He crossed his legs and looked up at him through his eyelashes. A part of Will just wanted to play a little game of chicken. Or even better, make Hannibal regret ever using him that way. He knew exactly how to do that.   
  
\---   
  
Finding Antony Dimmond’s number wasn’t hard, and neither was seducing him. The lean man was well-dressed, polite, albeit a little bit haphazard; and spent most of his days at the same seat in a cafe, slaving over a manuscript he wouldn’t let anyone read for another few years. Will seldom had the confidence to approach others, but with his newfound disdain for Lecter’s behavior burning in his stomach, he figured he could put his shyness aside.    
  


“Mr. Dimmond?” Will cleared his throat, causing the man to look up, almost in embarrassment. As if he had been doing something extremely questionable. “Will Graham. I’m a big fan of your poetry,” he shook his hand, inviting himself to sit down. It was clear that Dimmond was flattered. And interested. “Could I buy you a coffee?”    
  
A mere conversation starter turned into two hours of chatter. Will felt himself actually get invested in the way the English man spoke, as he explained that he was currently lecturing in Maryland and intended to stay here for a few months. He almost felt bad for having ulterior motives, but that feeling of guilt was replaced by an electric shock when he felt Antony’s hand on his, holding it gently. “You know, my apartment’s not too much of a trek away. Besides, it has a beautiful view.”    
  
How could Will say no?   
  
\---   
  
The next time he saw Lecter, it was back in his office, and Will could immediately sense that Hannibal had noticed. It was the cologne. He tried to bite back a smirk, holding a cup of coffee in his hand as the man promptly welcomed him in and then circled him, trying to calculate Will’s actions and motivations. Would he really have done that?   
  
“Good evening, Will,” Hannibal attempted to collect himself before jumping to any conclusions, but all he needed was the sight of Antony’s scarf for his suspicions to be confirmed. Will had double-crossed him. Lecter inspected it, astonished, not quite sure whether to marvel at his doings or curse himself for ever rejecting the man. A new feeling pooled in the pits of his stomach, hot and wretched. Jealousy.   
  
“Seems like you had a fun weekend,” he said through clenched teeth, eyes threatening to laser through the center of Will’s skull.   
  
“Oh, trust me, Dr. Lecter. My weekend was sensational. How about yours? Not lonely, I hope?” Will offered him a teasing pout, taking another sip of his coffee before he sat down.    
  
“It was pleasant, thank you ever so much for asking,” Hannibal led them towards their usual seats, eyebrow raising as he watched Will situate himself in Lecter’s seat instead. He was really testing his patience today. He sighed, taking a seat opposite Will and crossing his legs as he leaned back. “What motivated you to do what you did?” Hannibal didn’t specify, knowing he was fully aware of his actions.   
  
“It was just a bit of fun, don’t you think? Plus, I have to admit, he is damn good in bed,” Will mirrored Hannibal’s crossed legs, straightening out his own back. He couldn’t hide his amusement anymore, lips spreading out into a mischievous grin.   
  
“You know Will, I never saw you as the type to cheat,” Hannibal muttered. The annoyance glazed his voice, coating it completely and ruthlessly. Something akin to anger flashed in his eyes. Will wasn’t going to back down.   
  
“Cheat? Don’t be ridiculous, Hannibal,” Will stood up, deciding to wander around the office instead. “Must I remind you that you were oh so eager to maintain our professional relationship? I’m simply living my life, sleeping with whoever I want. The fact that he was your ex-boyfriend must’ve completely slipped my mind.” His blood ran cold when he heard Lecter stand up, walking towards him with purpose. All Will could do was watch and prepare for his impending doom.   
  
The first thing he felt was a hand clasp around his neck. He let out a soft whine, hearing a loud crash as Hannibal shoved him back against the bookshelves, gripping him with force. It wasn’t like him to be so impulsive. So forceful. So possessive. But Will crossed a line and he was going to have to answer for it.   
  
Will could already feel himself getting hard, Hannibal’s strong hands making him gasp for air, lightheaded and needy. He reached forward, grabbing Lecter’s face and making sure they were making eye contact as he said, “he fucked me better than you did.” Will wondered if he should fear for Antony’s life or his own. That question was answered quite promptly.   
  
Hannibal removed his grip, allowing Will a few seconds to fill his lungs before Lecter’s fingers traveled under his shirt inquisitively. Exploring the same skin that Dimmond’s teeth had grazed over just a few days ago. This next part wouldn’t go well. Lecter grabbed Will’s sweater, pulling it over his head to reveal bite marks littering his chest, a multitude of purple and red blotches decorating his otherwise pale skin. Will could come from the look in Hannibal’s eyes alone. The sound that left his lips could only be compared to a snarl, feral and angry, something that Will would never have expected to come out of the mouth of the well-mannered doctor who sat opposite him just 5 minutes ago.   
  
Clothing thrown aside, Lecter’s hands dug into Will’s hips, like a baker kneading dough, bathing in Will’s moans and whimpers. He was all bark but no bite, giving into Hannibal’s desires right at that moment. Graham could feel the throbbing impatience in his cock, begging to be stroked, sucked, rubbed, anything at this point. He stepped forward, desperate for more friction as he rutted against the man’s leg pathetically, only to be grabbed and taken to Lecter’s desk.    
  
Will felt exposed, nude body leaning against the table as he propped himself up, spreading his legs and smirking up at Hannibal. “Now what? Gonna fuck me to teach me a lesson? Not sure that’ll work, Doctor,” the last word rolled off his tongue so easily. He wondered whether this could possibly be the last time they’d do this.   
  
“Not exactly,” the stillness in Lecter’s voice returned, if only for a brief moment. He had something planned and Will was aching to find out.   
  
Hannibal reached into his desk drawer, hearing Will laugh when he brought out a lube bottle. Of course he predicted this. He spread Will open methodically, always applying the right amounts of pressure. At this point, Graham was basically putty, cock twitching at every movement the man made, only to have his hands swatted away when he attempted to provide himself with relief.   
  
The first thrust was gentle. Hannibal’s hand had made its way to Will’s face and he watched his eyes roll into the back of his head, hips bucking upwards desperately. “We’re going to work on your self-control today, Will. Clearly, you displayed little of it last week, perhaps this is your chance to repent,” Hannibal’s teeth dug into his neck softly, attempting to replace at least some of Antony’s marks.    
  
Will nodded, eyes already glazed over as he squirmed under Hannibal, eager for him to start moving. Lecter didn’t disappoint, hips rocking in and out of him at an agonizingly slow pace as he watched Will moan and clench around him. Hannibal wasn’t used to having Will under him like this, nor was he used to having this much control. The exhilaration drove him mad as he unconsciously began to move faster. He leaned down to press a kiss to Will’s lips, half to check in on him and half to silence the loud moans that were involuntarily making their way out of the depths of Will’s throat. He recalled Will mentioning his previous experience with similar matters in Wolf Trap. No neighbors? No problem. Graham had developed into someone who was awfully loud, and completely unashamed.    
  
He closed his eyes, giving in to the moment as he fucked Will faster and faster, cock twitching inside of him involuntarily. As the man’s moans grew, Hannibal could see his cock begin to leak precum, stopping momentarily and reveling in the sight Will under him shifting in discomfort.   
  
“Fucking hell, Hannibal. Just- just move,” he huffed out, trying to contort his body in every way possible to grant himself some sort of friction, positively unsuccessful. He was stuck watching the older man smirk over him, desperate and needy. His cock was throbbing now, red and glistening at the tip; even the softest touch would’ve been enough to send him over the edge, but things weren’t going to be that easy.    
  
When Hannibal began to move again, Will could feel all of his muscles stop tensing as he rocked his hips in tandem, bucking up shamelessly. “Fuck, doctor, please. Fucking- shit- shit,” he felt Lecter shift and then saw stars. The man was fucking him with so much hunger, cock finally reaching his prostate and making Will writhe in pleasure, yowling in a manner that resembled a feral cat. He wasn’t going to last long. Not like this. Will sped up, muttering ‘please’ after each thrust, hands clasping Hannibal’s back.   
  
This time, he pulled out completely, watching Graham’s mouth go completely agape as he groaned, trying to reach for any part of him to pull him back. “Hannibal. Hannibal, listen to me, fuck,” he clenched his thighs, still spread open on Lecter’s desk with nothing to stimulate him. “I need you inside me right now,” his eyes were pleading, eyelashes fluttering in a manner he knew would drive Hannibal wild.   
  
Hannibal was in agony himself, dying to be fucking Will again. But he had a point to prove, and if it took leaving Will defenseless then so be it. His cock twitched as Graham spread himself further, fully surrendering. “You’re so much better than him. God, you fuck me so well. Just, please, God, let me-” Will didn’t have time to finish before Hannibal had heard enough, slamming straight back into him and letting the feeling envelop him. He pounded his hips ruthlessly, watching Will arch his back and moan wantonly, cumming without warning.   
  
Will’s vision had dark spots that all blurred together, feeling like his head had just been put through a blender. He forgot every single word in the English language, and the feeling overwhelmed him to the point where he was no longer aware of his fingertips, limbs, face, just Hannibal inside of him and the cum dripping down his chest.   
  
Hannibal came with two final thrusts, leaning down to kiss Will, absolutely famished. Their eyes met and Will could only offer an exasperated sigh, a smile tugging at his lips. He got exactly what he wanted.   
  
This wasn’t going to be the last time, either.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kinktober day 4!
> 
> I messed up the words "edgeplay" and "edging" in my head but I hope this is enjoyable regardless.
> 
> I hope you're having a lovely day <3
> 
> \- Newt xxx


End file.
